


my honest reaction (i can’t stop this attraction)

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Cam/Skype Sex, Creampie, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in Two Holes, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Fucking Machines, Handcuffs, Impregnation, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Stiles uses the fucking machine is when Derek is hundreds of miles away from home and they’re conversing via Skype. She doesn’t tell him what she’s got planned, smiling mysteriously when Derek asks why she’s just wearing his shirt. In return, Stiles asks him if he’s alone before turning the laptop towards the bed, making it face the sex machine she’s set up on the edge of their bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my honest reaction (i can’t stop this attraction)

**Author's Note:**

> Dear fandom, you’re welcome. (no but seriously, why are there ZERO fics for TW under the 'fucking machines' tag? Unacceptable is what it is! and i'm gonna fix this a tiny bit!) This one is especially for Brii, Cor and Akuneko42.  
> Unbeated and belted out in 2 hours.

The first time Stiles uses [the fucking machine](http://www.bedroomjoys.com/product/tlc-caesar-20-love-machine-in-pi20/) is when Derek is hundreds of miles away from home and they're conversing via Skype. She doesn't tell him what she's got planned, smiling mysteriously when Derek asks why she's just wearing his shirt. In return, Stiles asks him if he's alone before turning the laptop towards the bed, making it face the sex machine she's set up on the edge of their bed.  


She stares intently at the small window in which she can see Derek's face, heart racing with excitement as Derek recognizes the machine for what it is. And licks his lips. "Stiles..." He asks in a rough voice that already makes her squirm in her seat. "Is that..."  


"Yeah." She says breathlessly, fingers worrying the long shirt sleeves covering her arms. Derek's clothes are far too big on her but he's not there they're the best alternative she's got. And right now? She just wants to show off how  _much_ she misses the man.  


After making sure that Derek has the best possible view, and that the volume for the mic and stereo are at max, Stiles begins to pull the Henley off. "Wait." Derek's says quickly. Stiles pauses, shirt half way up her torso so that it shows off the simple printed panties she's wearing. "Keep it on." The man insists, a heated look in his eyes.  


With a wicked smirk, Stiles lets the shirt drop down before she clambers onto the bed. She takes her time to wriggle her ass at the camera before she settles down into place. The remote is under her hand, the dildo attachment is at the perfect height and Derek's staring at her like he wants to  _eat_ her.  


She locks her eyes with Derek, makes her hands slide teasingly over her stomach, up to her chest. The motion rucks the gray material up, up until there's no way that Derek can miss the fact that she's not wearing a bra. "Jesus!" The hissed curse makes Stiles squirm on the bed, impatient fingers yanking her panties off and tossing them away to the side.  


Where's the damned lube? Her hands pats the space around her in quick sweeps, impatient and hurried. She'd put it, ah! As soon as her fingers curl around the bottle, she's got it open and her fingers are slick. In a few tugs, the thick dildo attachment is slick and she's got two fingers in her.  


Stiles closes her eyes and moans, shamelessly loud because she wants Derek to see, to hear, to know how much she wishes that it were  _his_ fingers inside of her. She moans this out, hair strands clinging to her sweaty forehead and shoulders. Derek makes a punched out noise, like he's in actual pain as he watches her finger herself open.  


When she glances over at the screen, Stiles tries to categorize the way Derek is staring at her. There's the obvious lust but there's also a greedy,envious edge to his stare - like he's unhappy about how far away he is from her. "Bet you're wishing you were here now right?" She asks with a smirk, fingers slipping out to rub lazily against her swollen clit.  


Derek snorts but does not disagree. "When'd you get that?" He asks instead, eyes ticking to the side to where the pink machine is set up.  


Stiles hums, reaching down to grab the flesh colored dildo. It's a poor substitute for Derek but again, better than nothing. And if she closes her eyes, which she does as she slowly takes it in, Stiles can easily pretend that it  _is_ Derek. It's almost as thick and just a tiny bit longer than Derek's dick and it fills her up so good.  


Her voice shakes as she settles in, getting comfortable before turning the machine on. The slow, mechanical 'thwip thwip' noise sinks under the pleased  _keen_ Stiles makes, legs spreading wider on their own. The easy going pace stokes her lust higher, makes the fire in her belly grow and grow until she's desperate for more.  


Her fingers twist the dial higher, fighting to keep her eyes open. Stiles stares at the laptop screen, at Derek's open mouthed expression and thinks that she should have set a program up to record this. The window that shows herself being fucked by the sex machine is too small so she can only imagine the picture she makes.  


Given the laptop's position, perched atop a tall stack of books on a chair plopped at the bed end, Derek's got a clear view of wet pussy. _God_ , she's so  _slick_  down there. One hand goes down to feel herself, how wet she is and how thick the dildo is. When she closes her eyes again, Stiles has the image of Derek's hot gaze in her mind and it makes her whimper.  


Again her hand goes to the dial, this time cranking it up to a higher setting. She doesn't want to tease herself any longer. Stiles wants to come and come so hard that she forgets everything but Derek's name that she's already repeating like a prayer.   


Derek makes a pained noise when the machine begins to jackhammer into her. She knows that sound well. Stiles laughs and moans, toes curling into the wrinkled sheets. "Y-you know I'm bad at wai-wating oh  _fuck fuck fuuuuck_!" Stiles moans throatily, head pushing back into the bed as she comes so fast, so  _hard_ that her toes actually go  _numb_.  
  


Getting the machine to stop fucking her takes some effort. Mostly because it's hard to concentrate past the pleasure that's  _pounding_ into her so hard, so fast that she can't  _breathe_.  


Stiles writhes away, whimpering again when the dildo slips out of her and slips against her swollen, wet lips. " _Fuck!"_  The heartfelt cry is too loud and desperate, loving-hating the way the lube-wet plastic feels against her sensitive skin.  
  


Her hand smacks against the dial, accidentally pushing it up to the maximum setting. Stiles yelps and moves back, fingers frantically turning the machine down to low before flopping back. She's a sweaty-warm mess that's trying to get some air into her lungs when she hears Derek's voice coming from far away.  


Stiles rubs one ear against the sheets, wondering why they feel so numb before she glances up at the screen. Derek looks as wrecked as she probably does and it makes Stiles grin with delight. "When I get home," Derek promises in a low voice, "I want to be there watching you."  


"Mmm." Stiles raises a lazy hand up push the sweaty shirt off. "Kay."  


\--  


The second time they bring the sex machine out, Stiles greatly regrets purchasing it. No, that's wrong. She just regrets agreeing to let Derek be in charge of the remote. "Oh please please  _please_." She begs, hands curled into fists and straining against the handcuffs keeping her chained to the bed.  


Derek, evil bastard that he is, doesn't listen. He just lies under her,  watches her face as she takes the dildo up her ass. All the while, never allowing Stiles to take his cock into her  _throbbing_ center. The most that he lets her enjoy is the tip of his hard cock rubbing through the wetness that drips out of her.  


Stiles drops her head down on Derek's shoulder, panting hotly against the tanned skin as Derek brings the machine's pace down to 'the-only-point-of-being-fucked-this-slowly-is-to-make-you-lose-your-mind' speed.  


Her legs have been trembling for  _ages_ , quivering badly as she fights to keep her ass up in the air. She feels so empty and too full at the same time as she accepts every slow, heavy thrust. Stiles wishes that she had even  _one_ hand free so that she can stick two fingers into her pussy and feed this  _desperate_ need to be filled. Then again, if she had a hand free? She'd had grabbed Derek's cock and sank down on it  _immediately_.  


But being denied what she wants makes everything feel twice as intense. Thrice if she remembers the hot look in Derek's eyes, greedily taking in every stupid detail he can. God how she wants his cock in her already. Wants to be filled, wants to be fucking  _bred_.  


Stiles whimpers, lips pressing together as tears gather in her eyes. It feels so good,  _too good_. Derek has brought her to the edge of orgasm thrice now, stopping  _just before_ she actually comes, bringing her back to a lazy heat that he strokes back into a hot flame. The climb back has been shorter every time and Stiles is certain that the next time? She won't be able to hold herself back from coming.  


"Alright?" Derek's low voice cuts through the foggy haze in her head. She feels gentle fingers carding through her damp hair before coming to rest against her cheek. It's amazing how Derek's hand feels  _cool_. She feels like she's made of fire at the core, burning up from the inside in slow waves.   


Pressing her cheek harder into the palm, Stiles meets Derek's concerned gaze and nods jerkily. "Green." She whispers, hips beginning to move back into the slow fucking she's receiving.  


Her fingers take hold of the thin chains connecting the cuffs together. She uses them to ground herself as she begins to rub her slick wetness against Derek's hard length. It's not what she wants but given the lack of leverage...  


"Gonna fuck me now?" She asks huskily, eyes black with desire. "Just like you promised me?" Stiles feels something deep inside her tremble, unable to  _deal_  with the fact that she's  _this close_  to going from 'not enough, need more, need to be filled' to 'too much, feels so good, so full'.   


When Derek pulls her down for a kiss, Stiles feels the back of his hand skate against her stomach. Her body twitches, tense with anticipation and focused more on the way Derek's forearms feel against her as he takes himself in hand and-  


Her mouth falls open, a sharp little cry dying in her throat as Derek goes in and in until Stiles feels like she'll never be the same again. With the machine still fucking into her steadily and Derek balls deep into her, Stiles is  _certain_ that she's going to pass out, overwhelmed with pleasure.   


Derek begins to move. His rhythm is different and off from the machines' and it throws Stiles off. Her mind and body have a hard time keeping track of the pleasure she's receiving from both hands. And then everything  _spins_  when Derek's hands begin to knead and flick her pebbled nipples.  


She presses her mouth and teeth to Derek's neck, mindlessly babbling out her half formed thoughts. Harder faster fuck me oh fuck Derek I can't it's too much I need to come. Stiles lets it all out because she wants to  _come_ and her brain-to-mouth filer has been burnt to a crisp by this point.  


Just as she's gotten the hang on moving between Derek's cock and the machine, Derek increases the pace of the machine. It pulls a high pitched cry out of Stiles, knees pressing into Derek's thighs as she tries to close her legs. But there's no where for her to go, to move as her world shifts, spins and pushes her over the edge into the void.  


Cry after cry pours out of her,  _pounded_ out of her lungs with every sharp thrust of the machine and Derek's cock. Stiles doesn't have the mind or strength to hold any of it back, feeling powerless against the pleasurable tide that's crashed into her and pulling her under.  


Stiles  _knows_ that she blacks out for a while because one minute she's moaning like some bad porno star into Derek's neck and the next she's tucked under his arm, feeling like she's made of clouds or something similarly soft and comfortable. "Wuh?" She slurs into the chest under her cheek. Had she the energy, she'd totally be running her hands all over Derek's pecs.   


The soft press of lips to her hair makes her tiredly look up into Derek's peaceful face. "You passed out." He explains quietly, fingers sliding through her hair (and getting stuck in a few tangles along the way). "How you feeling?"  


Making a tired noise-sigh-thing, Stiles snuggles closer. She manages to screw up enough strength to throw a leg over Derek's thighs before mumbling, "Feels like 'm floating. I think you sexed me out." The movement makes her aware of a thin trickle of come dripping out of her. It makes her wriggle and frown, nose wrinkling at the ticklish sensation.  


Derek's rumbling laugh makes her shake and grin tiredly at the man, her fingers lightly slapping his side in reprimand. "I don't think that that's possible." Derek replies, stroking her hair, second hand coming around to rest on her ass, pulling her closer to him.   


His hand is inches away from her vagina and the come leaking out of it. It's incredible distracting because Stiles can't stop herself from thinking if only Derek would move his hand down just a couple of inches and between her legs...  


She clears her throat and shakes her head. Derek chuckles once again, his fingers dipping down just as she wished they would and wonders briefly if maybe Derek's developed mind reading abilities.  


But when the gentle fingers are content in rubbing the come into Stiles' inner thighs and Derek's lips press a soft kiss to her forehead, Stiles forces herself to relax and just enjoy the feeling of being surrounded by Derek. "Want me to get you something to eat?" He asks, pressing his lips to her forehead.   


Stiles thinks about it before shaking her head, squeezing Derek tighter against her. "Maybe later." She mumbles. "Sleep first."


End file.
